


ramada inn

by thunderylee



Category: Hey! Say! JUMP, Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Exhibitionism, Facial, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2013-07-10
Packaged: 2019-01-16 03:28:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12334578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Fujigaya submits for Yamada in the backyard.





	ramada inn

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written for kink bingo (subspace/headspace).

“Please submit for Yamada in the backyard,” Yabu speaks, towering over Fujigaya in his robes like he’s the King of Japan instead of the master of the estate.

Fujigaya supposes it could be worse. Kitayama had been sent into the kitchen with Chinen. That kid is _sadistic_. Compared to him, Yamada isn’t that bad. He’s smaller, anyway, though his ass makes Fujigaya wish that their roles were reversed.

He clears his mind as he approaches the door to the backyard. Yamada sits on a bench, staring out into the forest behind their palace, looking more regal than Yabu in a mere yukata. He’s young but looks younger, almost _too_ young, which just makes Fujigaya even more resentful of their positions. Why does his group have to serve this household?

Then Fujigaya makes eye contact with Yamada and all of his thoughts disappear. Like Yamada had hypnotized him with just a stare, though it’s all in Fujigaya’s head. This is what he’s been trained to do; this is how he _lives_. He drops to his knees without active thought, scraping them a little on the hard ground while Yamada considers him.

“My favorite,” he says, the praise running through Fujigaya’s veins like liquid fire. “Come closer.”

The backyard isn’t fenced in. It’s the middle of the day. There’s only a small ramada sheltering Yamada from the hot sun, but anyone can see inside it. Yamada was usually one for a public spectacle, which has Fujigaya’s nerves burning at the thought of everyone watching them, from walkways and windows and nearby fields. They may be sex slaves but it’s usually kept behind closed doors, not out in the open like this.

“You’re so pretty,” Yamada tells him, taking Fujigaya’s face in his hand as the older man kneels by his side. “The only way you’d be prettier is with my come on your face.”

Fujigaya sighs, melting into the touch and words, every fibre of his being ready and willing to do whatever Yamada wants. Not just because he’ll get in trouble if he doesn’t, but because he _wants_ to. Full submission means he doesn’t have to think about anything, just feel. Yamada will tell him what to do and move him where he wants him. Yamada will take care of him.

“Fujigaya,” Yamada says, and Fujigaya gets lost in his eyes while Yamada thumbs his lips. “Put your mouth on me.”

Fujigaya really does scrape his knees as he rushes to comply with orders, but he barely notices. Yokoo will bandage them later, along with Kitayama’s likely cuts. For now Fujigaya kneels between Yamada’s spread legs, pushing aside his yukata enough to expose his cock, hard and curved. Fujigaya surreptitiously licks his lips before leaning in, bathing the head with his tongue while looking up at Yamada with unfocused eyes.

“Yeah, like that.” Yamada twists his fingers in Fujigaya’s fluffy hair, guiding him down more, and Fujigaya just relaxes his throat and takes it. “It’s better outside, isn’t it? The sun shining down, the light breeze drifting by, all the curious eyes looking out from the windows.”

Fujigaya moans around Yamada’s cock and Yamada groans back, tightening his grip. Fujigaya hadn’t been permitted to make a sound, but Yamada doesn’t do anymore than pull his hair, which has Fujigaya sucking harder to make up for his misbehavior. He takes Yamada all the way down, swallowing around the head, and lets Yamada guide him in a faster rhythm.

“Oh,” Yamada gasps, tilting his head back to expose his throat, his groans carried away by the wind. “Pull back.”

All of Fujigaya nerves bristle in preparation for this, his reward for working so hard. His throat feels oddly empty as he lets Yamada fall from his lips, closing his eyes the instant Yamada’s hand wraps around himself. Another beautiful groan and something warm and wet hits his cheek, then his nose, and finally his chin. His own body is shaking with need, erection straining the front of his peasant pants as he revels in the joy of having Yamada’s release on his face.

“So pretty,” Yamada says, breathless, his thumb returning to Fujigaya’s skin to smear the fluid along his lips, making him feel perfect. “You’re always my favorite.”


End file.
